


Red Through the Trees

by rosyhoe



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Dom/sub, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Oral Sex, Porn With Plot, Rough Sex, Slow Burn, Teasing
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-15
Updated: 2019-08-15
Packaged: 2020-09-01 07:10:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,890
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20254201
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rosyhoe/pseuds/rosyhoe
Summary: After Kylo Ren is gifted a new slave, there is an undeniable connection between the two. How will they navigate this sexual tension and precarious relationship? Will Kylo maintain his reputation? Or will this slave change his life forever?





	1. Fresh Blood

I quivered when I felt his presence aboard the ship. The plates in my hands clattered together and I had to set them down on the counter to keep from dropping them, a droid sweeping them into a slit in the wall. I smoothed the front of my skirt, looking down at my bare stomach. I was thinner than I was even yesterday, the hollow space under my ribs aching with hunger. Shaking the pang in my stomach I rushed to the door, minding the shackles around my ankles and slowing when I neared the end of my radius, the collar around my throat vibrating as I reached the edge. The door swept open just as I fell to my knees to greet him, “Good evening Master Kylo, how was your trip?”

  
“Uneventful,” he growled as he pulled the cowl from around his shoulders, discarding it on the ground. He strode towards me and stopped a few inches in front of me, the tips of his boots almost brushing my knees, I kept my eyes down, having learned my share of lessons as a slave to the Sith I knew better than to make direct eye contact.

  
I bit back my instinct to shy away when his gloved hand came to my chin, surprisingly gently. He tipped my head up to meet his eyeline, his face guarded by his black helmet, “So you’re the new slave they sent to me. What’s your name?” I shivered at the low, rough timber of his modified voice and the stark shine of his dark, unyielding helmet. His voice modulator added a sharp, terrifying edge to his voice and I meekly replied, “Eve, sir.” He nodded, “Start my shower.” I nodded and stood. I felt his eyes on me as I rounded the corner into the dimly lit refresher and turned the water on, waiting for steam to fill the room. I looked at myself in the mirror as I waited, my long hair beginning to curl from the moisture. I felt my eyes prick with tears as I looked at myself, my thighs and stomach bare, my form barely covered by simple strips of fabric across my breasts and hips. I had been made into a whore for this man and he would decide what to do with me. I felt another, stronger feeling begin to stir in the pit of my belly: rage, long forgotten rage. Shaking my head, I turned and left the room and knocked on Kylo’s door, “Sir, the shower is running. At your leisure.” There was no response from the room as I padded back into the living area and made myself busy tidying the room and picking up his cowl from the floor, depositing it in the laundry receptacle in the corner. I heard his bedroom door click open and then shut as he entered the refresher but I dared not raise my eyes from my work.

  
When I heard Kylo emerge from the shower I had finished plating his dinner. “What is that?” he asked. His true voice without any modification made my legs tighten against my will as his words fell over me like fine silk, “Colo crab legs and pear sauce,” surprisingly able to speak, “will you have it in the dining area or your quarters?” I kept my eyes on the plate, finishing the garnishes. “You can look at me,” he said curtly, ignoring my question. I slowly turned to him and lifted my eyeline to look at him for the first time. His waist covered by a black towel, the muscles of his bare torso accented by water droplets clinging to his skin, his broad shoulders. As my gaze rose to his mouth, then his nose, and finally his eyes, something burned in my chest as I realized how dreadfully handsome he was. “I want you to look at me. As long as you follow my orders and do as I say, I will not discipline you. I gain no pleasure from hurting you and won’t do so unless necessary. Am I understood?”  
“Yes, sir.” I whispered hoarsely, my voice catching in my throat. I rubbed at my neck, trying to release the remnants of words that had stuck themselves in my vocal cords. He studied me for a moment, “The dining area is fine,” he said, gesturing to the table.

  
He re-entered the room after dressing and sat at the table as I placed the meal in front of him and poured dark red wine from the caraf on the table, “Would you like anything else with your meal, sir?” he nodded and looked at me, “Yes, company.”  
“Very good sir, would you like me to call General Hux or another member of your crew?” he gave a loud bark of a laugh at this and I quivered, “No, I’ve seen those insufferable bastards all day. I meant you.” My knees shook at this statement, so unaccustomed to invitations of this sort I was unsure of how to accept. As my shock wore off, I nodded and gently sat in the chair opposite him. He looked at me intently, his dark eyes absorbing my every inch, devouring me. Once I had made myself comfortable in the rigid seat, he placed his napkin on his lap and began to eat. We sat in silence as he ate his meal, his eyes rarely leaving mine, only straying to drift across my shoulders or up the column of my throat. I tried to convince myself that I hated this man, hated what he had made me, but my legs quivering under the table and the chills racking my spine told a different story. I couldn’t pry my eyes from his lips, he paused once to suck a drop of pear sauce from his thumb and my stomach tightened painfully with desire that I had not felt for many years.

  
I jolted with a start when his voice interrupted my sinful thoughts, “Are you hungry?” My eyes darted to his, worried this would all be a cruel trick, “Desperately, sir,” my stomach rumbling, as if on cue. His dark eyes warmed for a moment as he slid his plate towards me, “Finish it. I’m quite full,” my mouth watered, but I was careful as I reached for the remaining food in front of me, too scared to take it. He pushed the plate even closer, “It’s alright,” his voice softer than I had heard it all night. I met his eyes once more before obliging and eating the remaining food, the rich flavour coating my tongue in buttery warmth. I closed my eyes, a small moan of delight crawling up my throat, “Thank you, sir. Thank you so much.”  
“I’m not fond of the Sith’s predilection for slaves and I am especially not fond of starving them. Do you need more to eat?” I shook my head, my stomach feeling full for the first time in months, if not years, “No thank you, I couldn’t possibly. I have to prepare your bed for the night if you’re finished?” He nodded and let me take the plate from the table, but kept his hand on the half full glass of wine.

  
After finishing the washing in the kitchen, I was in Kylo’s room turning down the thick blankets, I shivered as I thought of sleeping on the cold tile in the kitchen. I fluffed the pillows at the headboard, my fingers marvelling at their softness briefly, before leaving the room. Kylo was lounging on the couch in the living room, the now empty glass still in his hand, staring absentmindedly at the vast expanse of stars outside his window. I padded quietly towards him, “More wine, sir?” He tilted his head to look up at me, handing me the glass, “Yes, the Corellian bordeaux on the top shelf.”

  
I returned with the glass in one hand, he was standing at the window now and neglected the glass in my hand, “I didn’t know that Corellia had any vineyards,”  
“Yes, there’s one that I’m very partial to. Winemaking is a lost art that Corellia still holds close,” I nodded thoughtfully and stared out into space with the glass still gripped in my small fingers, feeling his eyes on me, “That collar is absolutely ridiculous, come here.” I stepped towards him and he pulled me closer, his hands drifting to my shoulders, turning me so my back faced him. He swept the hair away from my neck and disengaged the collar, the metal loop clattering to the floor, “There. That’s better.” I rubbed my free hand along the newly exposed skin, relishing in the small freedom, I turned back to face him and extended the glass to him once more, “Thank you, sir.” He nodded in acknowledgement, but pushed the glass back towards me, “I’ve had enough wine for tonight, that’s for you if you’d like it.” My stomach twisted with desire once more as I hesitantly brought the glass to my lips, he gave a small nod and the liquid pushed into my mouth like smoke. The taste was exquisite, almost impossible to describe and I couldn’t help but let out a small giggle at the flavour, “This is amazing,” I whispered. He nodded, his eyes on my lips. I took another sip and felt a drop slip onto my lower lip, my tongue swept across my mouth, catching the liquid before it could fall. Kylo’s throat tightened, a vein on the side springing forth.

  
I finished the wine standing next to Kylo at the window, watching the ships come in and out of our current star system, “You don’t treat me like a slave. I’ve served so many members of the Sith. . .no one has treated me like you have.” The words fell from my lips before I could stop them, and he looked at me gently, “You have been good to me. You have followed orders, you have been kind and grateful, I see no reason to be cruel to you,” His hand drifted briefly to my neck brushing the line of skin where my collar had been, “I treat even my greatest enemies with dignity,” I shivered at his words, his tone, his touch. “Anger and respect are not mutually exclusive, so many people think they are,” his hand drifted to grip lightly at my chin, forcing my gaze to his own.

  
“Are you angry with me, sir?” I whispered breathily, “No, not you, these rebels. They have no spine, no honor. They cower, leading a fruitless chase through all imaginable galaxies, knowing that one day I will find them and crush their alliance. There is no dignity in running, and yet I respect them as soldiers, as warriors. We all have beliefs we would fight for, die for.” His gaze was fixated on the horizon as he spoke, yet I could not tear my eyes from him, the grace of his lips, and the hand at his side that I wish so desperately would touch me again. “Are you ready to sleep, sir? You seem to be in need of rest.”  
“Yes, I think that would be best. Will you be sleeping here tonight or the slave quarters?”  
“I’ve been placed here at all times. I will be sleeping in the kitchen.”  
“No. No you will not be,” he growled. I was startled by his tone, “I apologize sir, I can retire to the slave quarters and be back in the morning--”  
“No, you will sleep here but not on the floor. Absolutely not. Come with me.” I followed him through the parlor and realized with a sick shock tinged with delight, that we were walking towards his bedroom, my stomach dropped as we entered and he pulled the blankets back, “Sir I- I will be fine in the kitchen.” He paused and looked at me, his eyes dark with an emotion I could not place, “I will never take advantage of you. Yes, you’re here to serve me, but your body is yours,” he pulled the top blanket from his bed and handed it to me, “You will beg me to touch you, I have no need to demand it from you. The couch should be fairly comfortable. Goodnight.” He closed the door in front of me, my mouth agape, my thighs clenched together with wanton desire.

  
Sleep evaded me that night. Kylo had underestimated how comfortable the couch was, the plush down and the soft fabric was luxurious compared to my normal sleeping arrangements, but I was plagued with thoughts of him. His hand on my throat and my shoulders, the way he looked at me, the way he spoke to me, you will beg me to touch you. I was breathless by the time my hand snaked between my legs and touched the dampness that had built there through the night. I whimpered into my pillow at the contact, imagining it was Kylo’s hand touching me. Thoughts of him flooded my mind as I climaxed into a breathy, sweaty mess. Sleep came easy after.


	2. Beating Heart

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tensions rise between Kylo and Eve, their connection growing to be undeniable and deliberate. Who will overcome the wall between them first?

When I woke in the morning Kylo was gone. He had left early to attend to his crew and I had heard whispers that he was going to the outer rim to fight the rebels. I spent the day worried about his return, worried about him. With nothing to do, I busied myself by reading books from Kylo’s personal library and cleaning around the apartment. I was confused by my worry about his safety. I should hate this man, I should pray for the rebels triumph so they could come liberate me from this ship. But I didn’t hate Kylo and I didn’t pray that the rebels would find me. I thought briefly of a past love that had become a top Resistance fighter pilot but the reminder of her soft smile did not stir me as it once had.

I awoke without realizing that I had fallen asleep. I felt Kylo’s presence on the ship once more and I rushed to make myself presentable and meet him at the door. He arrived much later than he had yesterday and the pit in my stomach finally filled when he opened the door. I was kneeling when he entered, “Hello Master Kylo, how may I serve you tonight?”  
“Hello,” he said, sounding tired, almost upset, “Please run the bath, it’s been quite a long day.” I stood and rushed to the bathroom and began filling the tub with steaming water and oils. I swirled the water to combine the myriad of soothing herbs and flowers I had placed in the water, the smell of rosemary and lavender wafting through the entire room. I knocked on Kylo’s door and told him the water was ready but heard no response, “Sir?” I asked knocking once more. Nothing. I gently pushed the door open to see him sitting at the edge of his bed, cleaning a fresh blaster wound on his thigh with a damp cloth. My mouth fell open slightly at the sight of him in tight undergarments, his feet bare. Even in vulnerability he exuded power and control, “Sir, forgive my intrusion but please, let me,” I knelt before him and gently took the warm cloth from his hand, taking care to be as delicate as possible. I watched as his hands gripped the bedsheets, “I’m sorry sir, does it hurt?”  
“Not as bad as the one on my shoulder,” I frowned, biting into my lower lip before asking, “What happened?”  
“Ambush,” he gritted through his teeth, “I should have seen it coming.” I pushed the thin fabric slightly higher up his thigh, noticing how he tensed as I did. I relished in the fact that I elicited such a response before inspecting the wound closer, “This looks fairly deep, you may need stitches, but let me look at your shoulder before you go to the medic.” He obliged, removing his cowl and then his shirt, an angry red lesion prominently displayed, stretching across his shoulder beginning at the base of his neck. The sight of his pale chest dizzied me yet again and I had to clench my thighs together to keep from quivering. My breath caught in my throat as I rose to attend to the wound, my hands longing to touch him, every inch of exposed skin. There were dark moles plastered across his torso that I had not seen the day prior and I marveled at the small constellations that peppered him. My finger strayed and brushed at one on his collar bone and he turned to look at me inquisitively, his brow slightly furrowed. I blushed a deep red before steeling my nerves and pressing the now cool cloth to his shoulder. He hissed a breath out through his teeth and gripped the sheets so viciously they could have torn, “I’m so sorry, sir,” I whispered, “this will hurt.” I pressed the cloth more firmly and scrubbed slightly at the grime trapped within the wound. He moaned in pain at this, his right hand shooting out, gripping at the exposed flesh of my waist and I gasped at the contact. His eyes were shut tightly in agony, his fingers digging deeply into my skin. I reliquinshed my pressure on his shoulder and paused, our heavy breathing the only sound filling his bedroom. I slowly peeled the compress from his skin, “I think the bath will help,” he gritted his teeth and nodded, “Yes, I think it will.”

I sat on the couch, looking out to the stars as Kylo bathed, every now and then a moan of pain from the room forcing my legs to clamp together and my eyes to shut. I imagined him in the low tub, his eyes squeezed tightly shut in pain, the length of his pale, lithe body stretched out and bare in the hot water, his hands clasping the edge of the marble bath. I pictured myself next to him, running my tongue along the length of his neck, pressing soft kisses to his back and shoulders, the thin fabric covering me pressed tightly to my body in the steam of the room. The sound of his growl as he pulled me into the warm water with him, stripping the fabrics off of me with ease. I gasped quietly, my eyes fluttering open as Kylo exited the bathroom, looking even more devastatingly handsome than last night when I had seen him fresh from the shower. His lips were red and parted, his hair in curly wet tendrils around his face, stance wide and commanding. There was something dark and unfathomable in his eyes, he looked at me as a wild animal looks at its prey and I suddenly felt very small on the edge of the couch, “Would you like something to eat, sir?”  
“No. It’s late,” he murmured, “fetch me a glass of wine, you may have one if you feel so inclined.”  
I busied myself pouring a glass for him, deciding to not cloud my already foggy judgment with the deep red alcohol. The light woosh of his door alerted me to his presence behind me but I already felt it, “Will you be going to the medic tonight?”  
“No, it can wait until morning, I do need you to bandage the wound on my shoulder however,” I shivered at the thought before turning to face him, “Yes sir, let me retrieve materials from the medical supply room,”

I returned with gauze and various ointments to Kylo standing in the dark living area, looking out the large window pensively, his shirt removed. The starlight bathed his skin in a silvery glow, his skin taut over the muscle of his chest and abdomen. I felt a new anger radiating off of him that scared me as I padded gently to where he was standing. I stepped closer than reasonable or necessary, simply unable to help it, “You may want to sit so I can reach you,” I whispered, my breath on his back. He straightened at the warmth of my words on his skin and silently sat at the edge of the couch. I stood over him and gently rubbed a salve into the wound, the redness diminishing immediately and the lesion shrinking in size. I took my time, making my touch feather light as I applied the ointment to his wound, restraining myself from pressing my lips to his bare chest. I became somewhat lost in my thoughts when his voice slithered into my mind, _You’ve been thinking about me_. I shuddered at the unfamiliar feeling before recoiling from him as I realized he had not spoken, “I- how did you-” his voice entered my head once more cutting off my speech, _It was quite easy. You do not push me from your mind when I try to enter, there seems to be a part of you that wants me there_. I thought back to my first night with him, the presence of him lurking in the shadows of my brain as I drew myself to a climax on the very couch we were now sitting on, I felt a heady blush crawl down my throat. “Sir, I-I’m sorry I’ve been inappropriate, if you feel the need to punish me or reassign me I will accept whatever penance you see fit,” he shook his head almost imperceptibly. “No, it’s quite alright,” he spoke aloud this time, his voice curling like silk around my ears, his left hand slowly drifted to my thigh and pushed the fabric framing my hip to the side, his thumb stroking the skin he had exposed. His large thumb rubbed small circles into the pale skin of my leg, he pushed images of us in his bed into my mind gently. Bare skin against bare skin, my head thrown back in ecstasy, his mouth parting in a moan. My eyes fluttered closed as I leaned into the soft touch and without realizing, I squeezed at his shoulder and he inhaled sharply at the pain, shaking me from my stupor. I took a generous step back and wiped the ointment from my hand quickly, “Shall I prepare your bed for the night?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another chapter! I have a good portion of the work done I just wanted to break it up so it feels more streamlined to read. Again, thank you so much for taking time to read this! I hope you're all liking it and as I said, any feedback is good feedback in my book :)


	3. Bite Down

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Eve continues to fight her desire for her master while Kylo seems to be much more inclined to indulge.

I struggled to sleep once more that night. After Master Ren had retired to his room, I had stayed awake, curled up on the couch refusing to touch the blanket he had given me. I had come too close tonight to doing something awful and regrettable, something I could never come back from. The thoughts of what Kylo had said to me, what he had shown to me, were flitting about in my head. The stars seemed especially bright, the white light burning my eyes and causing black dots to appear in my vision as I stared out to space. What a cliche I had become, I used to have a fire in my belly, a drive to escape one day and leave the Sith behind and now I was sitting here mere feet away from my master dreaming of what he could do to me in the terrible, dark hours of the night. As much as my fall from grace boiled my blood, the unfathomable desire to be touched by him won out and I found myself at the mercy of my lustful thoughts once more. I had staved off advances from my previous masters, the men and women I had served in the past, but I was aching to be touched. My skin longed for the caress of his hands, his lips, his tongue. I threw my head back against the cushion of the couch, practically writhing with agony and frustration. My thoughts drifted back to how Kylo might have looked in the bath, his hair wet and dark, clinging to the nape of his neck, his pupils blown wide with lust, his lips red and parted, labored breaths causing his bare chest to heave. My hands slid across my body without prompting to fill my desperation for touch but they did little to quench my desire. They were too small, too delicate. I craved Kylo’s calloused hands around my throat, on my breasts, the roughness of his palms colliding with the softness of my skin. I could have cried from my arousal, moisture slicking my inner thighs, my nipples hardened to peaks, my breath hot against my own lips.

I fell asleep briefly that night, plagued by dreams of my master doing unspeakable things to me. I awoke in a breathless state, my heart racing from a dream that had felt so real I was sure I would wake to Kylo touching me. The room was empty and quiet and despite my arousal I shoved the thoughts from my mind and forced myself from the couch and walked to the window, observing the twinkling of the stars and the storm swirling wildly on the closest planet. The world was a deep blue and seemed so large compared to the ship I was on, the clouds lit up by shocks of purple lighting intermittently. I stared for what seemed like hours at the ever raging tempest before easing myself back onto the couch, finally wrapping myself in the soft fur of Kylo’s blanket and falling asleep once more.

My dreams turned to nightmares in my second sleep and I felt the cold slaps and beatings of my past masters. I couldn’t help but cry which only earned me more brutalization, my masters’ harsh laughs permeating the otherwise silent nightmare. A red horned master gripped tightly at my shoulders and shook me violently, the palms of his hands like coals on my bare skin. But the touch softened and the shaking lessened, the palms now cool and strong against my small frame and I awoke to Kylo sitting next to me, fully clothed in his regalia with an inexplicable expression. His hands were wrapped tightly around my shoulders but he held me gently and calmly, his stoic visage tinged with small wrinkles of worry, “You’re alright, it was just a dream. I’m here.” I stared up in wonder at him, “I- how did you-” I stuttered as I tried to shake myself from the stupor of sleep. “I heard you whimpering from my room, you sounded distressed. Do you feel alright?” I nodded gently slowly pulling myself upright and adjusting my top that had slid down further than usual, the tops of my breasts glistening with sweat in the pale starlight, rising and falling rapidly with my breathing. Kylo’s eyes darted down at this movement and his expression darkened, his grip on my shoulders growing tighter rather than releasing me.

I curled my legs up beside my left hip, shifting into the pressure almost imperceptibly, my gaze not leaving his. We sat in silence for a moment as his grip slowly slid down my arms to my wrists before releasing me entirely, the second he did, my nerves began to ache for his touch once more, “I should be going, I am needed by General Hux for a briefing,” I nodded, “Would you like me to prepare you something to eat or drink?” He shook his head at this, “No you need sleep, take my bed after I leave,” I opened my mouth to protest but he pressed a firm finger to my lips and I nodded, “Yes Master,” I whispered around the length of his finger, noticing he was not wearing his gloves. A devilish impulse came over me and without thinking, I opened my mouth slightly and licked a slow stripe up the side before pressing a soft kiss to his rough skin. Panic seeped into my stomach as I realized what I had done, but it was quickly banished by the lust that flooded Kylo’s eyes. He did not move, his muscles tense under his layers of clothing. I opened wider and sucked his finger into my mouth, his jaw tightening even more, painfully so. My tongue worked slow, small circles around the length of his finger, my hand slipping to the top of his left thigh. His lips parted and I heard his breath coming in short, shallow pants. My hand tightened slightly around the massive muscle of his upper leg, sliding higher, a quiet moan working its way up his throat. I bit gently as he slowly retracted his finger from my mouth and without another word, he stood and left.

Kylo’s bed was fantastic, it was a marvel he ever left it. The sheets were softer than anything I’d ever felt and the mattress felt like a cloud. I spread myself as wide as possible and I still only took up half of the bed. Every muscle in my body was strained and exhausted and I fell asleep in what felt like seconds. I awoke hours later and Kylo was still gone. I made his bed before padding around the apartment, absentmindedly staring out the window and running my fingers along the spines of the books in his library. My eyes scanned the space for something new to do and they landed on the refresher. Typically, I would bathe in the slave quarters in dirty, cold water but the large marble tub looked so tantalizing I couldn’t resist. I busied myself with filling the bath with warm water, oils, herbs, and flowers not able to shake my newfound lust for luxury. I stripped down and eased myself into the sud filled water and moaned in delight, having not known such pleasure in some time. I took my time washing my hair, slicking on a thick cream that smelled wonderful, and scrubbing every inch of my tired muscles. My peace was broken abruptly when I heard the door slide open and Kylo’s heavy footsteps echoing on the tile.

My eyes shot open to find him towering over the bath with a bemused expression, “Enjoying yourself?” I scrambled to cover myself, “I’m so sorry Master! It’s just I haven’t bathed in quite-” he lifted a hand to cut me off. “I don’t mind at all,” he murmured, “I’m sure you needed some relaxation,” he paused at the last word and licked his lips, sending a chill up my spine. I nodded quickly, “Yes,” I breathed headily, my blush spreading to my chest, “I’m sorry I’ll finish up and begin dinner.” He shook his head, “It’s quite late, no need to cook anything.” He looked me over once more before quietly exiting and shutting the door behind him.

I emerged from the refresher clothed again, my hair still damp and curled slightly from the steam. Kylo was sitting on the couch looking out to the stars, I moved quietly to the kitchen and poured him a glass of wine. I handed it to him and sat beside him as he drank. He rolled his shoulders and grimaced in discomfort. “Sore, Master?” He gave a sharp nod at this and winced once more. I stood wordlessly and retrieved a glass bottle of oil from the refresher that I had put in my bath earlier. “This will help,” I whispered from behind him. He turned slightly and then nodded gently at me, “Yes I think it will. Thank you, Eve.” I shuddered at my name as it rolled off his tongue, “Would it be alright to remove your shirt, sir?” I asked shakily, he nodded again, not turning this time. I reached over the back of the couch and gripped the fabric at his waist, delicately pulling it over his head. The wide expanse of his taut shoulders stirred my desire once more as I slicked the warm oil across his back and neck muscles. I began rubbing slow circles into the tops of his shoulders, taking care to avoid the healing blaster wound. I lost myself in my work, delighted to be touching him. “I’ve been thinking,”  
“Oh? About what?” I murmured gently, “I told you that you would beg me to touch you, do you remember that?” I shivered and nodded, despite the fact that he couldn’t see me, “Yes, sir. I recall that conversation.” He dropped his head forward as I deftly worked the muscles in the back of his head and neck, “I was wrong,”  
“How so, sir?”  
“I will be the one begging for your touch,” I inhaled sharply at this, my hands stuttering for only a moment before continuing their movements on his tight muscles, “Sir, you don’t have to beg me for that. You must remember that I am here to serve you. You never have to beg me for anything, just ask.” He grew quiet and still at this and I worried that I had disturbed something within him.  
I continued to massage his right shoulder, my thumb digging a straight and intentional line into the junction of his collar bone. I worked in silence for a few minutes before he spoke again.  
“Eve,”  
“Yes, sir?”  
“Say my name.” I fought back a vicious moan that threaten to split my chest in two. He still did not look at me as I worked the deep muscles of his shoulder blade, “Everyone aboard this damned ship calls me sir or another ridiculous title and that’s fine. But I’ve been desperate to hear my name in your mouth from the day I met you.” My thighs tightened at his words and I struggled to undo the knot in my vocal chords, “Kylo,” I whispered meekly. His name rolled from my tongue, feeling foreign and wrong. All my masters before had strict rules of how I addressed them. To hear him begging to hear his name from my lips was perhaps the most arousing thing I had ever encountered. He groaned, “Oh, God,” his left hand gripping tightly to the fabric of his pants, “please once more.” I placed my hands on the tip of each of his shoulders and leaned close to the shell of his ear, “Kylo,” I breathed headily, punctuating the word with a soft kiss at the base of his ear. He moaned quietly in the back of his throat at this and my hands drifted to his chest on their own accord, as if the connection between my body and rational thought had been severed. I scratched my long nails up the expanse of his broad chest, eliciting another pained moan from Kylo, his fingers digging into his pants. The small amount of resolve within myself finally crumbled completely. I leaned further without thinking and bit hard on the junction between his neck and his shoulder before laving over the bite mark with my tongue, taking care to press small kisses along the wet path. His hand reached up to grip my wrist and I pulled my palms from his chest, “Not yet,” I whispered, “you can’t touch me yet.” He moaned as if in pain but obliged and returned his hands to the fabric of the couch, writhing under the heat of my mouth. I laced my hand through his long dark hair and pulled roughly another delicious moan curling out of his perfect mouth. I relished in the dominance I had over him, finally in charge after years of being subservient and less than. I sucked a dark purple bruise into the skin of his pale throat, delighting in the fact that no one would see this but me. His hands pulled tighter at the fabric of the couch, small rips appearing in the soft cloth and I finally relinquished, pulling from his throat before whispering in his ear, “Touch me, Master.”

He reached through the force, gripping my throat and I moaned at the aggressive contact. He quickly pulled me around the side of the couch and dropped me at his feet, “You little minx, don’t ever forget that I am your master,” he growled at me, but his words held no real menace, “tell me who owns you, who owns every inch of your perfect body.”  
“You do, sir,” I moaned, “I am yours. All yours.” I shifted slowly to my knees before him, my nails digging into the harsh canvas of his pants, laying my cheek against the middle of his thigh and looking up at him, “Do you want me, sir?” He dragged his thumb harshly across my lower lip, gripping my chin tightly, “More than I’ve wanted anyone or anything in my entire life,”  
“More than you want to crush those rebel scum?” I purred.  
“Even more than that,” he pleaded.

Satiated by this answer, I began trailing soft kisses up his covered thigh, biting down hard once or twice just to hear him growl and feel his fingers tighten in my hair. He cried out as I placed my mouth over the bulge in his pants, my tongue drawing feather light circles, my breath hot. He keened and bucked his hips up at my mouth, but I did not relent, simply carrying on my tortuous campaign. A litany of curses and begging streamed from his perfect lips, wet and red from lust. My curiosity finally won out and I slowly undid the top button of his pants and then the following clasps, all the while he moaned my name and my praises into the quiet room. I was surprised when I saw the pale skin underneath, realizing he was not wearing undergarments. For some reason this fact made me blush while also sending a chill down my spine that curled deliciously, low in my belly. I looked up at him, only able to see the underside of his sharp jaw, his head tossed back against the cushions in a mixture of agony and ecstasy and I realized the power I held over him at this moment. And yet, despite the fact that he looked so unassuming, he exuded control; one hand laced tightly through my hair, pressed against my scalp, the other skating across my back. He moaned as I pulled away the remaining fabric from his groin, licking a stripe up the underside of his cock, “Fuck,” Kylo whispered above me. I took his length into my mouth, the taste of him and his size making my eyes roll back in my skull. I moaned around him and his fingers scraped long lines up the soft skin of my back, his legs shifting open even more. My left hand drifted to his stomach, glistening with a fine layer of sweat, stroking at the lines of hard muscle, the trail of my fingers interrupted by several scars. He moaned again, his muscles tensing under my fingertips, his large hand pressed firmly against my back. I could feel him close to climax as I swirled circles with my tongue. I pulled off and sunk my teeth into the exposed skin of his thigh, his jaw tightening as he grit his teeth, agonized at being denied release. I rose slowly, allowing his hands to fall to my hips. He gazed up at me as if I was the woman who had created the universe, “Shall I prepare your bed for the night, sir?”

His eyes darkened with anger at this and he growled at me, “No you shall not.” His fingers dug painfully into my waist as he pulled me into his lap with a brutal force. His right hand was placed firmly on my hip, his left wrapped tightly around my throat, “I’m not quite finished with you,” the dampness between my legs only grew at this statement, so accustomed to being used but never wanting to be. Until now. An image of Kylo’s head between my legs shot through my mind and I gasped, “Filthy girl, is that what you want so desperately? My mouth?” I moaned as he rubbed his cock roughly at the thin fabric covering me, “You need me to kiss you don’t you? To lick every inch of you until you’re almost in pain from how it feels and you can’t help but scream as I make you cum. I know that’s what you crave, you pretty little thing, I see it.” He continued to roll his hips against mine as he pushed image after image into my mind of his lips, his tongue, his teeth. I could practically feel his hot breath on my thighs. I was shaking at this point, my body felt wound like a spring about to pop. He leaned into my neck and kissed me deeply, his tongue and teeth skating across my skin, sucking and biting bruises along my collar bone. I rolled my hips against his fervently, my own orgasm dawning. I moaned as he pushed hard into my groin, his hips stuttering as a warmth dripped down my thighs.

He pulled me from his lap and dropped me next to him, using the fabric of his discarded shirt to wipe the fluid from my legs. I opened my legs expectantly as he slowly dipped his head to press a faint kiss to the inside of my left thigh before he stood and looked down at the mess he had made of me, a satisfied smirk on his perfect mouth, “Goodnight, Eve.” He strode into his room without another word, leaving me needing and wanting on the couch, my orgasm slipping from my grasp with each breath I took.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you all for reading! This is a fic I've been working on for a few weeks and I thought it was time that it saw the light of day. Despite loving the Star Wars universe, I make plenty of mistakes with terminology and timeline so if you notice any inconsistencies feel free to let me know! All feedback is encouraged and welcome as I am new to the site and would love to hear your input! Hope you enjoyed this filth and I'll be updating soon :)


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